
BIRD'S NEST 

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h 



BIRD'S NEST 

A Fantasy in One Act 



By 

TRACY D. MYGATT 

Author of "Children of Israel" ** The Noose** 

1 * Good Friday ," **A Passion Play of Now, ' ' 

and other plays 

NOTE 

The acting rights in this play are strictly reserved. Perform- 
ances may be given by amateurs on payment of a royalty of 
five dollars ($5.00). Correspondence on this subject should be 
addressed to Walter H. Baker Company, Hamilton Place, 
Boston, Mass. The professional stage rights are also strictly 
reserved, and performances by professional actors, given in ad- 
vertised places of amusement and for profit, are forbidden. Per- 
sons who may wish to produce this play publicly and profession- 
ally should apply to the author, in care of the publishers. 




BOSTON 

WALTER H. BAKER COMPANY 

1922 



P5 55 
BIRD'S NEST 



CHARACTERS 

George Sanford ----- a bridegroom 
Martin Doan his man 

klcHARD } newly-married lovers 

Scene. — The garden outside a cottage. 
Time.— A night in May. 




Copyright, 1922, by Tracy D. Mygatt 
As author and proprietor. 

All rights reserved. 



m 26 1922 

©CI.3 60630 



Bird's Nest 



Program of the first performance. The Village 
Studio Guild of Ogunquit, Maine, July 28, 1921. 
Produced under the direction of Mr. Leigh Lovel 
with the following cast : 

George Sanford, a bridegroom - - Ray P. Hansom 

Martin Doan, his man - - - Mr. Leigh Lovel 

Lydia ) , . j j \ Gladys G. Ascherman 

^ mi ^\newl r marrtedloven - } fahard Coolidge 

The music for the Minuet was composed for 
the performance by Mr. Stanley Muschamp. 



It was next produced by The Little Theatre of 
Denver, Colorado, December 8th and 9th, 1921, 
under the direction of Park French, and with the 
following cast : 

George Sanford, a bridegroom - William G. Schweigert 
Martin Doan, his man - R.J.Willis 

K A ARD !^--^w, - - {„*£,*£ 

The dance was directed by Miss Lillian Cushing. 



Through the courtesy of Mr. Stanley 
Muschamp the very lovely music com- 
posed by him for the original performance 
of " Bird's Nest " is printed. It can be 
bought of Walter H. Baker Company for 
50 cents per copy. 



To 

FRANCES WITHERSPOON 

who knew the little house for Bird's Nest, 

and whose fancy plaited straws with 

mine in a May moonlight 



PLEASE NOTICE 

The professional stage-rights in this play are strictly re- 
served by the author. Applications for its use should be 
addressed to Tracy Mygatt, in care of Walter H. 
Baker Company, Hamilton Place, Boston, Mass. 



Attention is called to the penalties provided by the Copy- 
right Law of the United States of America in force July I, 
1909, for any infringement of the author's rights, as follows 

Sec. 28. That any person who wilfully and for profit shall in- 
fringe any Copyright secured by this Act, or who shall knowingly 
and wilfully aid or abet such infringement, shall be deemed guilty 
of a misdemeanor, and upon conviction thereof shall be punished 
by imprisonment for not exceeding one year or by a fine of not 
less than one hundred dollars, or both, at the discretion of the 
court. 

Sec. 29. That any person who, with fraudulent intent, shall 
insert or impress any notice of Copyright required by this Act, or 
words of the same purport, in or upon any uncopyrighted article, 
or with fraudulent intent shall remove or alter the copyright 
notice upon any article duly copyrighted shall be guilty of a 
misdemeanor, punishable by a fine of not less than one hundred 
dollars and not more than one thousand dollars. 



Bird's Nest 



SCENE. — A little low white cottage, approached by 
a gravel-path which winds up from gray, moss- 
grown steps at l., flanked by lilac-bushes. A 
sunken step leads across the tiny pillared porch, 
twined deep with honeysuckle which, together 
with the tall, recently-acquired French windows, 
stands open into the living-room, dark now ex- 
cept for its moonlit shadows. 

At the rise of the curtain there is a moment in which 
the dark and stillness permeate one; then there 
is a slight noise overhead, an electric light flashes 
in the upper hall, and a tallish, youthfully old 
figure that is Martin Doan, wearing valet's 
livery, can be made out, descending the little 
flight of stairs just inside. As he reaches the 
bottom, the heavy strokes of the clock in the 
church tower, faintly visible in the middle-dis- 
tance, begin to boom out midnight. Martin 
pauses, listening. As the strokes proceed, he 
steps into the open doorway, and peers into the 
garden. 

Martin. 
[In soft unison with the bells.] Nine — ten — 

eleven — twelve ! 

[Then, snapping the profound quiet which suc- 
i 



2 BIRD'S NEST 

ceeds the ending of the chimes, there is an 
abrupt movement above stairs, and George 
Sanford' s voice, thick but vibrant with un- 
wonted excitement, calls. 

Sanford. 
That you, Martin? 

Martin. 
[Turning toward the cottage.] Yes, sir. 

Sanford. 
[Jovially descending the stairs.] Well, well, Mar- 
tin, what have you got to keep you awake ? 

Martin. 
[Measuring a conscious distance in his voice.] I 
hardly know, sir! It was such a night, sir! I was 
going to bring up the ear-trumpet 

Sanford. 
[Joining Martin on the doorstep, his too-well- 
fitting clothes making an open secret of his stoutness.] 
Well, well, did you think you'd find it here, listening 
to those everlasting chimes? But I'm glad you re- 
minded me, Martin ! I shouldn't have slept a wink 
if I hadn't known it was all right, every way ! 

Martin. 
[Again turning to go in.] Yes, sir, I put it on the 
table with the other packages 

Sanford. 
Thanks. [Laying a protesting hand on Martin's 
arm.] But don't go in yet, Martin! I — I want to 
talk. 



BIRD'S NEST 3 

Martin. 
Yes, sir. 

Sanford. 
[Sentimentally looking up at the moon.] Just look 

at her! Isn't she splendid? Doesn't she [He 

breaks into a fat chuckle.] Now just listen to that, 
will you? Don't that show the state I'm in — callin' 
the moon " her " and " she " ! Why, that's what they 
say in the magazines. I was readin' one last night — 
[With fatuous explicitness.] one of those /oz/e-stories ! 
Why, Martin, I haven't said " her " and " she " for 
forty years ! 

Martin. 
[Dutifully.] Yes, sir. 

Sanford. 
[Testily.] Well, don't that show ? 

Martin. 
[Dreamy eyes on the cedar over the cottage.] The 
moon's beautiful, sir ! 

Sanford. 
[ With a pitying snort. ] Beautiful ! Why, Martin, 
beautiful's no word for it ! She — she's elegant ! 
Magnificent — er — " magnifique," I think the French 
would call it ! Such a romantic language, French ! 
Mrs. McCormorant's kept a French maid for years ! 
Eut of course you couldn't be expected to know, or — 
[A sentimental hand on his heart.] or feel ! 

Martin. 

[Suddenly attentive.] Not a pain, sir, in your 
heart? 



4 BIRD'S NEST 

Sanford. 
[Starting irritably. ] Pain ? — in my heart ? What 
are you talking about? 

Martin. 
Beg pardon, sir, but I understood the doctor 
said 

Sanford. 
Damn the doctor! Don't you know I only went 
to satisfy Evelina — Mrs. McCormorant? Why, I 
never was fitter in my life! But she does love me 
so — [Sighing.] and I her! I her! Ah, Martin, 
again that is something you cannot understand — 
when two hearts beat as one ! [Scornfully, as Mar- 
tin says nothing.] I suppose you'd think it was a 
disease ! 

Martin. 
Sir ? 

Sanford. 

[Holding him as both look into the garden.] Ah, 
no matter ! Just think, Martin, this time to-morrow 
night we shall be here — she and I — here in the Bird's 
Nest [ Chuckling. ] Ha-ha — not bad, that, con- 
sidering the nest-egg! I whispering sweet nothings 
into her little sea-shell ear! 

Martin. 
[Edging away.] Beg pardon, sir, but shall I fetch 
the ear-trumpet up to your room? 

Sanford. 
[Seizing him suspiciously.] Eh? Now what did 
you mean by that, I'd like to know ? 



BIRD'S NEST 5 

Martin. 
[Impeccably.] Why, I thought you wanted it, sir! 

San ford. 

Yes, yes, I wanted it, but you see — I'd just been 
saying — er — I'd just been alluding — [As Martin re- 
gards him.] oh, damn it, no matter! No matter! 

Martin. 
Shall I fetch it, sir? 

Sanford. 
[Reluctantly turning indoors with him.] I sup- 
pose so! But mind, if ever I find you insinuating / 
things about Mrs. McCormorant's deafness — oh, well, 
you may take your month's pay and clear out ! Why, 
it might gum the whole game ! 

Martin. 
Yes, sir. In fact, sir, as you mentioned it, and a 
similar thought being in my own mind 

Sanford. 
[Hastily.] I'm not mentioning anything, Martin — 
and neither are you ! — Assuredly not the night before 
my wedding! — when you know perfectly well, or 
would, if you had the least touch of romance — that 
I'm all of a flutter inside ! [As they step, fumbling 
a little, into the living-room.] Now where's that 
confounded button? This jumpy moonlight makes 
everything disappear! 

[Martin switches on the light, which illumines 
the old spinnet, l., and the portrait of an 
elderly woman in crude, modern evening 
dress, which hangs upon the wall. 



6 BIRD'S NEST 

Martin. 

Here, sir ! [Going to the table, c, on which 

are several ear-trumpets.] Now you'll be able to 
see which ear-trumpet's the best, sir ! 

Sanford. 

[With a grunt, surveying the instruments before 
him-. ] Oh, you unwrapped them ! 

Martin. 
Why, yes, seeing how important it was for to- 
morrow ! I was very careful, sir 

Sanford. 
Yes, yes, it would never do to let her go to church 
with her trumpet broken. Dear, dear, such an un- 
fortunate accident — and the day before the wedding! 

Here, let's bring it all into the garden [As 

Martin obeys him, and as they carry the little table 
just outside.] Not to hear the vows [Senti- 
mentally.] "Till death do us part!" [Then, prac- 
tically, to Martin.] Look here — before I go up- 
stairs, let's try them out [Giving Martin the 

rope end of one of the trumpets.] You go over 
there — [With a gesture, right foreground.] and say 
something ! 

Martin. 
[Dubiously preparing to obey.] But you 9 re not 
deaf, sir! 

Sanford. 
[Slightly dashed.] No, I'm not deaf — but it might 
give us an idea [He backs away from Mar- 
tin.] There! Now try it! 



BIRD'S NEST 7 

Martin. 
[On a low note.] You'd best go to bed, sir! 

Sanford. 
[With an irritability that shows he has heard.] I 
can't hear a word ! 

Martin. 

[As before.] You wouldn't want rheumatism on 

your wedding day ! You know what the doctor 

[Sanford puts down the trumpet crossly, jerks 
the other end from Martin, lays the instru- 
ment on the table, and hastily selects an- 
other. 

Sanford. 

Here — let's try this one — and change places with 
me — and you hold the thing-um-a-bob to your ear! 
[Martin, with a faint shrug, complies, so that he 
stands where Sanford has been standing, therefore 
facing the garden. As the arrangement is completed, 
Sanford begins, speaking sentimentally into the 
tube.] Do you know, they say the Bird's Nest was 
built for lovers ! Can you hear ? 

Martin. 
[His eyes on the garden.] So I have heard, sir! 

Sanford. 
[Practically.] That's good! [Suppressing a yawn.] 
Then I guess I'll give her this one — it's too late to 
try 'em all ! 

Martin. 

[Suggestively.] Best try if I can hear the story, 
sir! 



8 BIRD'S NEST 

Sanford. 
The story? Oh, yes ! [At first he speaks into the 
tube, but as he continues, he seems to forget his orig- 
inal purpose, becoming engrossed in his subject.] 
Well, I had it from the man I bought Bird's Nest of, 
a year ago, before I put in the improvements. Queer ! 
I don't believe I've thought of it since that day! 
And I asked him why he didn't put it in order him- 
self, and he — he said that years ago his father was 
planning to bring his bride here when 

Martin. 
[As Sanford breaks off.] Yes, sir? 

Sanford. 
[Beginning to laugh softly, as at a delicate joke he 
does not himself understand.] Why, he could! He 
simply couldn't ! You see — Bird's Nest was built for 

lovers ! [As Martin says nothing.] Lovers, 

Martin! Why don't you laugh? Don't you see the 
joke? 

Martin. 
[Gravely.] No, sir. Is the story a joke, sir? 

Sanford. 
The story? Dear, no! A ghost-story, Martin — 
think of that! Brrr-rrr! [With a mock shiver, 
lowering his voice in coarse joviality.] Spooks — 
haunted ! Nobody but me's had the nerve to think 
of living here for fifty years and more ! Afraid the 
visitors mightn't approve. Visitors — ha-ha ! Bear 
in mind, Martin — Bird's Nest was built for lovers. 
[As Sanford begins to laugh again, Martin regards 
him with a curious look. He is still laughing when 



BIRD'S NEST 9 

the grandfather clock in the parlor begins to strike 
midnight. Sanford, himself again, starts violently, 
takes a step toward Martin, then, as if rooted to the 
spot, stands listening. The face of Martin, too, has 
changed. Pallor, first, then, as the clock strikes on, 
light, reflected as from some deep centre within, 
covers his face. He casts one anxious glance at his 
master; then, as if surrendering himself to his pro- 
found absorption, he softly crosses to the porch and 
peers out. Sanford, as the strokes go on. ] What- 
ever made you wind up that damned old clock, Mar- 
tin? 

Martin. 
[At the door.] I didn't wind it ! 

Sanford. 
You must have ! It hasn't struck since I took the 
cottage ! 

Martin. 
[Turning and regarding him. significantly.] But 
it is striking, sir, isn't it ? Striking midnight ? 

Sanford. 
[Abruptly.] So you have heard the story? 

[Without looking at him, Martin steps fur- 
ther into the garden where white moonlight 
now floods gravel-path and steps. Then, a 
note of repressed triumph in his voice. 

Martin. 

Yes, sir ! Ten — eleven — twelve ! [ Then 

to himself, on a low note of joy.] Ah ! 



IO BIRD'S NEST 

Sanford. 

Built for lovers ! Well, why not ? Why not ? 

Ain't love the strongest thing in the world ? — Stronger 

than death? 

[As Martin, incapable of answer, stares into 
the garden, Sanford, with a grunt, turns 
inside, and laboriously begins the ascent of 
the little staircase. Once he pauses and 
throws back a condescending glance. Per- 
ceiving it lost on his abstracted servant, he 
resumes his journey, and presently passes 
out of sight into the rooms above. There 
is a moment of pregnant silence. Then, 
with a smothered cry, Martin steps swiftly 
forward, and, arms extended in a poignant, 
yearning gesture, seems to greet the two per- 
sons who, unaware of him, are rounding the 
path to the garden. As, very close to one 
another, they come onward to the cottage, 
his arms drop, and as they mount the little 
steps, he withdraws into the shadows of the 
hedge. At this, the small feminine figure 
in the colonial flowered lavender and quilted 
poke-bonnet, slips her little black-mitted hand 
even more closely into the arm of her grave 
young escort. He wears a coat of deep 
bright blue and snuff-colored trousers; a 
high white stock is about his throat; on his 
head, a square hat. 



Lydia. 

[With clear approval, as Martin vanishes.] That 
was very polite of him, dear Richard! Quite as if 
he understood the circumstances, 



BIRD'S NEST II 

Richard. 
[Ardently.] Yes, yes, but pray do not let us think 
of that now, my darling ! We are home — at last ! 

Lydia. 
[Caressing the lace ruffle on his sleeve.] Yes, of 
course, dear Richard! But [With vague unrest.] 
we must be particular about the people — I fear he is 
not the only one about ! 

Richard. 
Must we think of them at once? Couldn't we just 
settle down? 

Lydia. 
[Rapping him playfully with her little prayer- 
book. ] Settle down ? Without knowing who's about ? 
The idea ! Do you think my mamma brought me up 
to be that kind of a housekeeper ? 

Richard. 
[With a courtly bend.] I'm sure you're the best 
housekeeper a man ever had ! 

Lydia. 

[Sweeping him a courtesy.] Thank you, thank 
you, dear Richard! [Then, suddenly picking up her 
long flowered skirts so that the lavender clocks 
twinkle above the little slippered feet.] And I'll 
prove it to you ! [Puzzled, half to herself.] Though 
I don't know why I said that about the people a min- 
ute ago. Things puzzle me so sometimes. I'll race 
you to the kitchen — though it's unladylike, I suppose, 
to run — but I do want to make you a pasty. Mamma 
always made them for my papa, and my marriage be- 



12 BIRD'S NEST 

ing so near, she taught me last week. I made them 

perfectly yesterday ! 

[Lydia breaks into a run; Richard catches 
her wrist, and together they are running into 
the cottage, when the ear-trumpets on the 
table meet their astonished eyes. 

Richard. 
[Pausing and examining them,] Lydia! What 
are they ? What on earth can they all be ? 

Lydia. 
[Laying down her prayer-book and just touching 
them.] I haven't the — the ghost of an idea! What 
do you think they are, Richard? You've studied so 
much, — wouldn't the Rev. Mr. Heathcote have pre- 
pared you for them? 

Richard. 

[Fingering them cautiously.] He might have, I 
suppose, but I don't believe I ever got that far ad- 
vanced ! 

Lydia. 

[Penitently.] That's because I interfered with 
the pursuit of your studies, dear Richard! If you 
hadn't stopped to marry me 

Richard. 
Ah, Lydia, that's the best thing my poor old tutor 
ever did, — marrying us to-day ! 

Lydia. 
[Suddenly drawing very close and laying her little 
hands on his breast in a sort of piteous daring.] To- 
day? Oh, Richard, — there's the queer feeling again — 
it comes and goes! But if it was to-day, — [Very 



BIRD'S NEST 1 3 

poignantly.] Oh, Richard, why were we so long get- 
ting home ? 

Richard. 
[Caressing her gently,] It was that little spill we 
had, my darling! That's why you're still a little 
shaken. I feel much the same way myself! Ajax 
was trotting along nicely and, after all, it was hardly 
strange how frightened he became at that steam-car ! 

Lydia. 
[Ruefully. ] Poor little pony ! I should think they 
might have waited for their old experiment till after 
our wedding ! One thing, I am sure that when Papa 
informs Mr. Van Beuren about the accident, he will 
put a stop to any such ridiculous practises! [Toss- 
ing her curls.] Steam-cars, indeed! 

Richard. 
[Thoughtfully.] I suppose so. And yet, of course 
it isn't as if it had been a serious accident! Ajax 
stopped as soon as we upset ! [He bends over her 
with sudden anxiety.] You — you're quite sure it 
didn't hurt you, my darling? 

Lydia. 
[With a little laugh.] Why, Richard, you've asked 
me that a hundred times ! Of course it didn't hurt ! 
I was just a bit frightened — more for poor little Jaxy 
than myself. How he did run! That steam-car 
made such a queer noise — and moving that way with- 
out a thing to make it go. Positively creepy, I call it ! 
[Rousing herself. ] But my frock's all right ! There's 

only this 

[She pushes back her bonnet and clustering 
curls to show his concerned eyes a tiny mark 
over her left temple. 



14 BIRD'S NEST 

Richard. 
\B ending and kissing it.] Kiss it and make it 
well ! [He plays a moment with her curls; then, 
gravely.] Dearest Lydia, how thankful I am it was 
nothing serious ! 

Lydia. 
[Nestling close.] And how thankful / am for you! 
Just what you showed me ? No more ? 

Richard. 

[Pointing to an imperceptible stain on his plum- 
colored waistcoat.] A mere scratch ! 

Lydia. 

[Softly.] Dear Richard — will you not think me 
foolish if 

Richard. 

[Taking her face between his hands.] If what, 
Pet ? Is it being my wife makes you so afraid of me ? 
Indeed I've never noticed such behavior before ! 

Lydia. 
Don't laugh, dear Richard! I know I was never 
very religious ! It is so good to be alive ! [ With c 

little shiver. ] Alive ! Alive ! Religion is 

just for poor sick dead people, but 

Richard. 
What, Lydia? 

Lydia. 
Well, on Sunday, would you send a messenger to 
the Rev. Mr. Heathcote and have him offer that — 



BIRD'S NEST 1 5 

that thanksgiving in the prayer-book about a safe 
return? [With a desperate little sob.] Oh, Rich- 
ard, I — I couldn't bear to have been hurt in the run- 
away — Not to be here, alive and happy, in Bird's 

Nest 

[She stops, panting, and he gathers her into 
safe, protecting arms. 

Richard. 
But we are in Bird's Nest, my dearest! We are! 
We are ! 

Lydia. 

[Looking up from his breast in frightened appeal.] 
Of course we are ! But I'm. glad to have you tell me 
so ! You see, Richard, long before I was a married 
woman — one afternoon last spring it was — an old 
gipsy woman came to our house one day, and she 
read my palm — Mamma was out — or she never would 
have permitted it ! — And she told me 

Richard. 
What did she tell you? 

Lydia. 
She said — " It will end where it began ! " 

Richard. 
[ With a laugh, though his eyes are troubled. ] Was 
she referring to my Greek? That ended where it 
began ! 

Lydia. 

[Seriously, as they pass through the open door into 
the little parlor.] Mamma thought it meant my mar- 
riage! She consulted the Vicar, but he was too 



1 6 BIRD'S NEST 

highly educated to believe in such "nonsense," he 
called it! And I was always so happy — in spite of 
sister Eliza's being so much prettier than me — don't 
you think so, Richard? 

Richard. 

[Indignantly.] Eliza! Flibbertigibbets! Why, 
you're the prettiest girl in the world! [Turning her 
to the tall mirror at the side of the room.] There! 
See for yourself J 

Lydia. 
[Smiling.] How on earth can you think so? 
[Then she goes close and examines the cut for her- 
self.] Lucky my hair curls, isn't it? This horrid 
little mark will never show. Now poor sister 
Eliza — of course she is much prettier than me, Rich- 
ard — but her hair's straight as a poker, and do you 
know, whenever she tries to have curls, she invariably 
burns it ! 

[Richard, taking a turn about the room, dur- 
ing the last speech, has now brought up be- 
fore the full-length portrait of Mrs. Mc- 
Cormorant that hangs upon the wall. Her 
pink satin and the diamond pendant about 
her substantial neck shine bright in the elec- 
tric lamp beneath the portrait. 

Richard. 

Well, speaking of beauty [Confronted by the 

sight of the lamp, he touches the bulb gingerly.] 
Good gracious ! Glass all round the lamp ! How on 
earth would the smoke get out? And a string — oh, 

heavens ! [As he puts out the light.] What 

have I done? 



BIRD'S NEST if 

Lydia. 
[Helplessly, at his side. ] Oh, Richard ! 

Richard. 
[Accidentally pulling the light on again.] How 
very strange ! 

Lydia. 
[Breaking into a peal of delicious laughter, as the 
picture flashes again into view.] Richard! My 
heavens ! Did you ever see such clothes ? She must 
have got them out of the Ark ! 

[Richard surveys the portrait with frank dis- 
gust, and then lets his eyes rest on his little 
bride with patent satisfaction. 

Richard. 
Poor thing! I shall never complain again about 
women changing the fashions ! What else was there 
for her grandchildren to do ? 

Lydia. 
[Scornfully.] Grandchildren! Why, Richard, 
I'm sure Grandmamma never wore such a frock! 
[Pointing to the portrait.] She must have been a 
great-great, at least ! 

Richard. 
[With decision.] And not on my side! Possibly 
yours, Lydia? 

Lydia. 
Not at all ! [Puzzled.] But if she isn't on yours, 
Richard ? [A fear which she vainly tries to re- 
press suddenly thrilling her voice.] But she must be 
on yours ! Else why is she here ? 



1 8 BIRD'S NEST 

Richard. 
I tell you she isn't, Lydia! [Then, as Martin 
softly emerges from the shadows where he has been 
watching them.] Look! There he is again! Who 
can it be ? 

Lydia. 
[Tugging at his arm, fascinated by the portrait.] 
Oh, Richard, dear Richard, I — I don't like to look at 
her ! It frightens me ! 

Martin. 
[Approaching the door, and looking within.] I 
beg pardon, sir, but did you call ? 

Richard. 
[Looking from Martin to Lydia. ] Call ? No ! 

Martin. 
[Regarding Lydia fixedly.] Nor you, Madam? 

Lydia. 
[Beckoning Martin to her zvith sudden decision.] 
Yes ! Do you know who that lady was ? 

Martin. 
Why, that, Madam, that is Mrs. McCormorant ! 

Richard. 
" Is " ! And what a name ! " Mc " what ? We 
never had such a name in our family ! 

Lydia. 
[Impatiently.] You've already said she wasn't in 
your family! And she certainly wasn't in mine! 



BIRD'S NEST 1 9 

[She turns peremptorily to Martin.] Will you 
please tell us who she was? And why her portrait 
is here ? 

Martin. 
[Watching Lydia.] Why, Madam, Mr. Sanford 
had it put here to surprise her, her becoming his bride 
in the little church here to-morrow ! 

Lydia. 
[With a great effort.] His bride — to-morrow? 

Richard. 
[ Gravely. ] Then she's alive ? 

Martin. 
[Looking from one to the other.] Why, yes, sir, 
to be sure she's alive ! 

Richard. 
[Puzzled.] But her frock? My wife was quite 
certain, and so was I, that her frock was — er — well, 
I don't like to say anything against the lady, but, 
well, you know, rather old-fashioned, to say the least ! 
[With an admiring glance at Lydia's panniers.] You 
can see— there's rather a difference ! 

Martin. 
[With the ghost of a smile.] There is, indeed, 
sir! [Resuming, practically.] But I have often 
heard Mr. Sanford say, sir, that all Mrs. McCor- 
morant's gowns are in the height of fashion ! 

Lydia. 

[Prettily nettled.] I trust you don't mean to 
imply 



20 BIRD'S NEST 

Martin. 
[Courteously.] I imply nothing to your disfavor, 
Madam ! 

Lydia. 

[Restlessly.] Of course her frock is of no conse- 
quence — nor her being married — but — why should her 
portrait be here — [A sudden break in her voice.] here 
in Bird's Nest? 

Richard. 
[With a note of authority.] Yes, that's what we 
don't care for ! Why should her portrait be here, in 
our parlor? 

Martin. 
[Simply.] Why, so they can both admire it, I 
suppose, sir, after she comes to live here to-morrow ! 

Lydia. 
[Falling with a cry into Richard's arms.] Oh, 
Richard ! I— I feel faint ! 

Richard. 
[Tenderly carrying her to the garden bench, Mar- 
tin following them.] There, there, my darling! 
[On his knees, to her.] Shall I fetch your salts? 

Lydia. 
[As she clings to him, Martin, regarding both, a 
faint, quizzical sadness in his eyes.] No, no, it's not 
my salts I need! Oh, what did he say, Richard? 
What did he say? 



BIRD'S NEST 21 

Richard. 
{Caressing her gently.] It was nothing, my dar- 
ling! We — [Vainly trying to repress a quiver in his 
voice.} we must have misunderstood him! 

Lydia. 
[Softly repulsing him, sitting bolt upright.] No, I 

don't think so ! I [Suddenly she hides her 

face in her hands, in an agony of remembrance.] 
Oh, Richard, don't you know ? We've been mistaken 
before about — about Bird's Nest? 

Richard. 
[Helplessly, as he rises.] My dearest Lydia ! 

Lydia. 
[Jumping up and confronting Martin with the 
piteous dignity of her little clasped hands.] You said 
just now that — that [With a gesture toward the por- 
trait. } lady was alive — and going to be married, and 
that she — that they — plan to live here, in Bird's Nest? 

Martin. 
[ Very low. ] Yes, Madam ! 

Lydia. 
[Drawing herself up.] But doesn't she know that 
Richard and I are to live in Bird's Nest? 

Martin. 
[Very gently.] Are you sure, Madam? 

Lydia. 
[She looks long into his troubled, wistful eyes; then 
pitifully.] We were to live here! [Impetuously.] 
Oh, don't you know? We were to live here — and 



22 BIRD'S NEST 

then — then Ajax was frightened by the steam-car, 
coming home from church this afternoon, and ever 
since 

Martin. 
[Softly, as Lydia stops, unable to proceed.] The 
folks about here always say Bird's Nest was built for 
lovers ! 

Lydia. 
[In a low voice.] The folks? Since when have 
they said that? I never heard it! 

Martin. 
[With a long look.] No, Madam, — it was not — in 
your day! [Then, softly to himself, looking from 
Lydia to Richard. ] Built for lovers ! 

Lydia. 
[As before.] And are they — lovers? 

Martin. 
Mrs. McCormorant is very rich. 

Richard. 
[Shocked.] You keep saying, "Mrs."! She has 
been married before ? 

Martin. 
Just so ! An attractive woman some think, sir, in 
spite of her deafness. 

Richard, 
But why should she be deaf ? 

Lydia. 
[With sudden petulance.] What does it matter 
whether she's deaf or not when 



BIRD'S NEST 23 

Martin. 
[ImperUirbably to Richard.] It's merely her age, 
sir ! Sixty-three she is, but 

Richard. 
Good God ! It's impossible ! It's unnatural ! 

Martin. 
[Watching Lydia narrowly.] She took a great 
fancy to Bird's Nest the day Mr. Sanford brought 
her over ! It makes them both feel quite young again, 
so they say! 

Lydia. 

[ Under her breath. ] Young ! Sixty-three ! 

I'm not eighteen ! 

Martin. 
[Watching her as before.] Haven't old people a 
right to happiness, Madam? 

Lydia. 
[Irrelevantly, a passionate ring in her voice.] The 
folks about here say Bird's Nest was built for lovers ! 

Martin. 
[ Gravely. ] Quite so, Madam ! [ With an old-fash- 
ioned bow.} I am glad to have seen you, Madam — 
I had heard — so much. But I must go now. I have 
to make sure Mr. Sanford has taken his medicine be- 
fore retiring — his heart's not just right. 

Richard. 
[In a level voice.] Mr. Sanford, I presume, is the 
bridegroom ? 



24 BIRD'S NEST 

Martin. 
[ Withdrawing with grave courtesy. ] Er — yes, sir ! 
And somewhat excited over to-morrow. 

[Martin steps into the cottage, putting out the 
electric lights and goes upstairs. 

Lydia. 
[Regarding his retreating figure.] A nice-appear- 
ing old man, Richard! [She comes quite close to 
him; then, softly.] I'm glad he's not being married 
to-morrow ! 

Richard. 
[Starting.] What do you mean? 

Lydia. 
[Practically.] Well, I prefer their being horrid — 
like that man and that dreadful woman in the house ! 
[Reminiscently.] I couldn't help being sorry for the 
gentle lady that was here, — oh, you know, quite a 
while ago ! 

Richard. 

You mean the one they called " Virginia " ? That 
was visiting Bird's Nest before he brought her here 
to live ? 

Lydia. 

Yes, Virginia ! But he didn't really love her ! We 
couldn't have had them about ! What a cold she 
took that night! [Placidly.] I guess it settled on 
her lungs right away ! [ With a little smile. ] They 
weren't here when we came back. 

Richard. 
[A trifle uncomfortably.] I know ! 



BIRD'S NEST 2$ 

Lydia. 
And another year — that dark beauty. He was 
speaking a foreign tongue to her when we came. 
11 Celeste," I think her name was. I think it is a 
French name. With what I had picked up at the 
Academy for Young Ladies, I could easily see they 
were planning to settle right here in a few weeks. 
She didn't love him at all ! [ With a mischievous 
laugh.] Do you remember how frightened she was, 
Richard? [Smoothing her little panniers.] Big 
women are always such cowards ! 

Richard. 
[As before.] Yes, of course, — but 



Lydia. 
[With a touch of asperity.] What is it, Richard? 

Richard. 

You — we've upset the plans of a good many people, 
haven't we? Need we bother any more about them? 
[Gently.] We have each other — to-night ! 

Lydia. 
[With infinite wistfulness.] Ah, Richard! Rich- 
ard! You are only a man ! [Very low.] No 

one must live here ! Don't you understand ? 

Richard. 

[Started.] You mean — else we couldn't come 
back? 

Lydia. 
We couldn't come back! Just think, Richard — 
[Caressing him gently.] we couldn't come back ! 



26 BIRD'S NEST 

We'd wait all the long, long year, and then — when to- 
night came — we couldn't come back ! 

Richard. 
[Drawing her passionately into his arms.] Oh, 
my darling! But we must come back! It is what 
we live for ! It 

Lydia. 
[Gravely.] Just so, Richard! I know you al- 
ways agree when you — remember — — ! 

Richard. 
[Regarding her with sudden anxiety.] Do you 
think you can manage it ? The lady isn't here — this 
time. 

Lydia. 

But he's here! And do you know, Richard, in 
spite of what Mamma has always taught me, I hardly 
think men are a bit braver than women ! 

Richard. 
Oh, Lydia, you really think not ! 

Lydia. 

[Teasing him.] Really, really, dear Richard! 

But, oh, look at that moon ! Isn't it a shame to 

worry about anything with that over our heads ? Oh, 

Richard, I want to dance. If there were only music! 

Richard. 
[Falling into her mood,] Why not make it your- 
self? The spinnet is there — [Pointing within.] your 
papa's wedding present — he thought you would like it 



BIRD'S NEST 27 

the first night ! Look, Lydia, how clear it stands in 
the moonlight ! 

Lydia. 
[Running into the house.} I could play the 
minuet ! [Seating herself at the spinnet, she plays a 
few bars of a minuet with delicate, old-fashioned pre- 
cision, Richard, who has followed her, leaning over 
her. Presently, she stops, and wheels abruptly 
about.] But, oh, that isn't enough! [Jumping up, 
she drags him after her to the garden. ] Come, Rich- 
ard ! Back to the garden ! I want to dance ! 

Richard. 

[As they pass outdoors.] But the music, dearest 
Lydia ! I can never do the steps without the music ! 
Don't you remember how you laughed at me that 
time last week ? 

[Without answering, Lydia places both her- 
self and him in position for the minuet. 
Then, with low conviction. 

Lydia. 

There will be music, dear Richard! Don't you 
remember — it used to go [Humming the min- 
uet under her breath.] this way ? [And pres- 
ently, as if encouraged by her voice, the garden be- 
comes full of throbbing fiddles and horns, as, with 
stately courtesy, she and Richard dance in and out 
among the flower-beds. A few moments pass; then, 
at a sound within the cottage, they stop dancing, and 
as George Sanford, this time in dressing-gown and 
slippers, slowly descends the staircase, the music 
quivers away, though still heard now and again, as 
at greater distance. Lydia softly drazvs Richard 
aside. ] Sh — this must be he ! 



28 BIRD'S NEST 

Richard. 
[In a slightly nervous whisper.] After all, Lydia, 
this is my house ! Had I not better call him out and 
have done with it ? 

Lydia. 

[Watching Sanford.] Sh ! 

[For a moment Sanford pauses at the table, 
outside, bright in the moonlight; picks up 
the ear-trumpet; with it, he heavily proceeds 
into the garden; then looking at the moon. 

Sanford. 
[With his fat chuckle.] Ah, romance! All very 
well for young folks. But [Tapping the ear-trumpet] 
she'll hear my vows all right with this! And ro- 
mance comes easy at $100,000 ! 

Richard. 
[Indignantly.] Lydia! It's desecration. Let me 
challenge him and end it ! 

Lydia. 
[A restraining hand on his arm.] Hush! Leave 
it to me And that [Pointing to the ear- 
trumpet.] He said that was to hear his vows with. 
How very strange ! 

Sanford. 
[Plumping down on the bench near him.] 'Might 
as well stay here. 'Can't sleep a wink. 

Richard. 
[Tears in his voice, as he feels the hour going.] 
Lydia ! It's our one night ! Make him go away ! 



BIRD'S NEST 29 

Lydia. 
[Softly.] Ah, if he'd go away! [Louder.] If 
he'd burn that picture, and pack right up, and go 
away from Bird's Nest, and never come back ! 

Sanford. 

Damned pretty little house for Evelina and me! 
Damned lucky to get it, and so cheap, too! [With 
another chuckle.] Some clever Johnny must've 
made up that yarn about the ghosts to pull the prices 
down! Ghosts! Ha-ha-ha! When I sell, I'll sell 
high ! I can swear I've never seen 'em ! 

Lydia. 
[Distinctly, as she emerges from the shadows, and 
sweeping him a mocking courtesy.] I suppose you 
don't see me, sir ? 

Richard. 
[In a frightened whisper.] Dearest Lydia, pray 
be careful ! 

[Lydia steals behind Sanford, jerks up the 
trumpet, and, holding it to his ear. 

Lydia. 
[Mischievously.] There, sir! Is it only your 
bride who can't hear? 

[With a sleepy gesture, Sanford brushes 
away the trumpet, which falls to the ground. 

Sanford. 
[With a yawn.] Ah, never mind. Too much 
work — pick it up. 



30 BIRD'S NEST 

Lydia. 
[Slipping around in front of him,] Come, Rich- 
ard! 

Richard. 

[Joining her somewhat hesitantly and taking her 
outstretched hands.] Is it quite safe, do you think? 

Lydia. 
[To Sanford, dosing on the bench.] We don't 
want to hurt you, sir. Say it with me, Richard 

Lydia and Richard. 
[Repeating together.] But Bird's Nest is our very 
own ! Will you go away ? You don't love your 

bride! And you know [With low intensity.] 

Bird's Nest was built for lovers! 

Sanford. 
[Sleepily.] $100,000, by George! That's enough 

to make up for a whole lot ! And Bird's Nest 

[His head drops forward with a jerk. For 
an instant, Lydia bends and peers close into 
his face. Then, with a quick sigh of relief. 

Lydia. 
Come, Richard ! Let us finish our dance. 

[Again, invisible violins take up the tune for 
the minuet ting lovers, and it is perhaps guided 
by this that Martin, a moment later, wist- 
fully reenters the garden. But once there, he 
goes swiftly to Sanford and bends over him. 

Martin. 
[After a quick glance.] Dead! Oh, my God! 
[For a moment s with incredulous eyes, he watches 



BIRD'S NEST 3 1 

the delicate, rhythmic bending and swaying of the 
young forms; then, with a smothered cry, he rushes 
forward and raises indignant hands to stop them. 
And as, in their grave and gay abandon they dance 
on, Martin, seeming to derive fresh support from the 
backward glance he flings the body, tries to catch 
Lydia by her curls. Martin indignantly.] How 

dare you, you little — little 

[But, untouched, Lydia glides past him, her 
light laughter mingling with the wind. Then, 
as Martin slinks back, beaten, his eyes full 
of wonder, an impalpable tremor passes over 
the garden. The violins fade; the moon- 
light shivers blue and chill, and Lydia runs 
with a cry to Richard. 

Lydia. 
Oh, my dearest — not yet ! Not yet ! 

Richard. 
[Tremulously, holding her fast.] We had just 
begun ! We had waited a whole year ! 

Lydia. 
[In a panic of longing. ] Oh, Richard ! Richard ! 

The church clock has struck! In a moment 

[Pointing a trembling finger within.] our clock ! 

Richard. 
[As the whirring noise begins that precedes the 
stroke.] My darling — next year 

Lydia. 
[As before.] Oh, stop it! Stop it! [Her head 
against his breast.] Oh, Richard, I — I haven't seen 
the nursery yet ! 



32 BIRD'S NEST 

[Then, as the clock strikes ONE, her features 
change. She gathers up her little prayer- 
book, slips a decorous, mitted hand within 
the arm he gravely offers her, and together, 
passing Sanford's body without a glance, 
they turn away down the little path. 

Martin. 

[Stepping forward and leaning over the body.] 
Too bad ! [Then, his eyes young and wistful as they 
follow the retreating figures.] But Bird's Nest was 
built for lovers ! 



CURTAIN 



r 




35 

30 
30 

30 

30 
30 

25 
35 



L 



AMATEURS' SUPPLIES 

PREPARED BURNT CORK— Will not dry out. Always in 
condition for immediate use. Easily removed. Enough 

for four people. Per box (about 2 oz.) $ 

One-half lb. f $1.00 ; per lb 1 

SPIRIT GUM— For sticking on whiskers, etc. Easily 
removed with Cocoa Butter or Cold Cream. Per bottle. 

COLD CREAM — For removing grease paints, spirit gum, 
etc. In tubes 

COCOA BUTTER— For same purpose as Cold Cream 

CLOWN WHITE— For Pantomimes, Clowns, Statuary, etc. 
Per box 

CARMINE LINER— Per stick 

BLUE— For the eyes. Per stick 

EYE BROW PENCILS— Black, Brown. In nickel-plated 
metal tubes. Each 

GRENADINE OR LIP ROUGE 

THEATRICAL BLENDING POWDER— Thoroughly hides 
oily appearance of grease paints. Not to be confused 
with street powder. No. 1, White ; No. 2, Flesh ; No. 3, 
Brunette; No. 4, Rose Tint for juvenile heroes; No. 7, 
Healthy Sunburn; No. 10, Sallow for both young and 
old age; No. 11, all ruddy exposed characters; No. 17, 
American Indian, East Indian, Othello 40 

ROUGE DE THEATRE— No. 18, Medium shade for juve- 
nile and fair complexion; No. 36, Brunette for decided 
brunette types; No. 24, Deep Rose for darker hues. 
Per box -35 

HAIR POWDER— White only. To gray or whiten the 
hair or beard 35 

POWDER PUFFS— For applying blending powder 30 

HARE'S FEET— For blending make-up 30 

STOMPS— Leather, for lining face for wrinkles, etc 30 

NOSE PUTTY— For building up nose or chin 35 

EMAIL NOIR OR BLACK WAX— Black, for stopping out 
teeth 35 

WATER COSMETIQUE or MASCARO— White, Black, 
Dark Brown, Light Brown, Blonde, Red, for coloring 
the beard, eyebrows or hair at temples to match wig. 
Removed with soap and water. Each 35 

MAKE-UP PENCILS— Light Flesh, Dark Flesh, Brown, 
Black, White, Gray, Carmine, Pink and Crimson. Set 
in a box I «35 

LINING PENCILS— Black, Brown, Crimson, Gray and 
White. Each 20 

LADIES' BEAUTY BOX— For stage or toilet use. Con- 
tains Flesh Color Face Powder, Theatrical Cold Cream, 
Theatre Rouge, Eyebrow Pencil, Powder Puff, Hare's 
Foot, Flesh Color Exora Cream and Lip Rouge 1.35 

Always send your orders to 

WALTER H- BAKER GO., Boston, Mass- 



Km3Smm2fJ2!!&ES8 



T 



AA--° ° 18 349 046 1 



AMATEURS' SUPPLIES 

MAKE-UP BOX— For either Gentleman or Lady, a handsome 
japanned tin case, with lock and key, and containing the 
following articles: A set of Grease Paints (nine colors), 
Blending Powder (two colors), Rouge de Theatre, Eyebrow 
Pencil, Grenadine or Lip Rouge, Blue for the Eyes, Nose 
Putty, Email Noir or Black Wax, Mascaro or Water Cos- 
metique and Brush, Spirit Gum and Brush, Powder Puff, 
Cocoa Butter, Burnt Cork, Two Artist's Stomps, Hare's 
Foot, Mirror, Scissors and Five Colors of Crepe Hair, All 
these articles are of the best qualify. The actual listed value 
of the articles enumerated, all of which are included with 
our complete Make-Up Box, would be over $7.00; so that 
the handsome carrying case is included at no additional cost 
when you buy this outfit. By express, shipping charges not 
paid $7.0© 



GREASE PAINTS 

Ho. No. 

1. Very Pale Flesh Color. 12. 

2. I*ight Flesh, Deeper Tint. 13. 

3. Natural Flesh Color for Juvenile Heroes. 14. 

4. Rose Tint Color for Juvenile Heroes. 15. 
& Deeper Shade Color for Juvenile Heroes.16. 

6. Healthy Sunburnt for Juvenile Heroes. 17. 

7. Healthy Sunburnt, Deeper Shade. 13. 
a Sallow, for Younr Men. 19. 
9. Healthy Color, for Middle Age. 20. 

10. Sallow, for Old Age. 21. 

11, Roddy, for Old Age. 22. 



Olive, Healthy. 
Olive, Lighter Shade. 
Gypsv Flesh Color. 
Othello. 
Chinese. 
Indian. 
East Indian. 
Japanese. 
Light Negro. 
Black. 
White. 
(Done up in sticks of 4 inches in length at 30c each.) 

MISCELLANEOUS SUPPLIES 

FOR YOUR MINSTREL SHOW 

Minstrel Chorus Wigs (special price by the dozen), each. . . .$1.25 

End Men's Fancy Wig 2.25 

Fright Wig (Mechanical) 3.00 

"Uncle Tom" Wig. 2.25 

" Topsy" Wig 2.25 

Sonnetts or Clappers (per pair) .25 

Paper Collars (end men) .15 

Dress Shirt Fronts 35 

Stage Jewelry : Shirt Stud 50 

m Large Diamond Ring 75 

A Stage Money : 20 sheets 10 

100 sheets 40 

A/ways send your orders to 

I WALTER H. BAKER CO-, Boston, Mass* 



18774 



